


London Calling.

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels), valuna



Series: LJ roleplaying [5]
Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M, Song Lyric Title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-13
Updated: 2003-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is he in a relationship now? A long pause: Not really now, no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	London Calling.

**Author's Note:**

> Content: This one kind of came out of nowhere. I hesitate to place it in any of the canons of [Role Playing](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=lannamichaels&keyword=Comments+Roleplaying&filter=all) we've been doing, mostly because of the Orlando Factor. Like the other ones, however, there is an existing d/s relationship.
> 
> Notes on reality of people reading this: Like "Assume the Position" and "What's On The Other Side?" the creative process for this was fascinating, and the SeanVig muses led us down expected crevices into their minds. In other words, it kind of just happened.
> 
> \--
> 
> Originally posted at http://community.livejournal.com/rugbytackle/271041.html
> 
> Roleplaying-in-comments post was http://www.livejournal.com/users/lannamichaels/113192.html?thread=1009704

Phone by the bed rings. Sean picks it up, notes the caller ID in hindsight, sighs. "Viggo?"

"Yes, Sean. Excuse me, but I thought we were in a relationship."

"We are. I just." Cell phone rings. "Hold on." Sean picks up the mobile from the bed and flips it open. "Yeah."

"Sean, explain it to me. I pick up the Express, read this article. You look good, by the way, and you say not really now. What the fuck are we?"

"Good question, Orli. No, Viggo, I'm not confusing you with him. He's on the cell. No, Orli, I'm not." Sean sits the phones down side-by-side and lets his lovers scream at each other.

Viggo's saying something about the sky not always being yellow and Orli's devolved into dialect. This is what Sean had been trying to avoid by evading the question.

He lets them have it out for a good half hour, then separates the phones. "I'll call you back, luv," he tells the mobile before shutting off, then turns his attention to Viggo.

"You were saying?"

"I understand you not wanting to admit to the world that we're a ... whatever it is you call what the three of are ... but to say no flat out, with the not really now, was just kinda cruel."

"And I should've said what? 'Oh, there's this really nice person I'm seeing.' I don't like interviews, I don't do them well and I don't think anyone has any bloody business knowing who I'm sleeping with or not." He pauses, shifts the phone into the other hand and settles down into the bed. "You call just to berate me?"

"Not really, no. Put your hand on your cock, but don't take down your pants."

Sean follows orders, resting his hand over the worn sweats. "Phone sex, Vig? Maybe I should get Orli back on the line. He'd hate to miss that."

"Screw Orli. I want you to myself right now."

"I'd prefer you screw me. In person. But seeing as how our schedules are fucked all to hell right now." Sean presses his hand down, just enough weight to feel comfortable. "You've got me all to yourself. All night."

"Don't think I'm not going to be taking advantage of that fact. Stroke yourself, Sean. Slowly."

Threadbare cotton sweats yield easily to Sean's touch, fabric molding around the outline of his cock, already halfhard from listening to Vig and Orli go on at each other. "Yes, sir," he says into the phone he's cushioned against a pillow at his ear. He strokes, the friction of cotton overlaying the intensity of his hand's movements.

"Oh, I like the way *that* sounds. Say it again."

"Yes, sir. I'm stroking my cock for you. Through my sweats. Not touching myself until you say I can. Sir."

"Tell me how it feels for you to do this for me."

"I'm staring at your painting. I hung it on the far wall so I could see it every time I woke up." Sean rubs his palm over his cock and down farther between his legs, almost kneading the cotton-covered flesh. "I can imagine you sitting here. On the end of my bed. Watching me. Telling me exactly what to do, sir."

Viggo chuckles over the phone. "Even three thousand miles away, I can still order you around. Remind me to send Alex Bell flowers."

"Hook up that bloody webcam I sent and you could do this with pictures." Sean's still stroking, slowly and methodically, the sensation up to a nice dull burning. "Sir," he adds with a moan.

"Too busy. You could come visit and do it for me."

"I don't know when my schedule will let up. Get Henry to hook it up."

"_Boy_." *pause* "Hand off your cock. Take down your pants. Lie face down on the bed."

"Yes, sir," Sean snaps, a shudder running through his body at being called boy. Hand off cock. Pants down, tossed to the floor. He flips over, taking a second to put the handset back on the base and turn on the speakerphone. "Done, sir."

"Rub yourself against the sheet."

Sean stretches his arms over his head and wraps his fingers around the headboard slats. He pulls himself up and pushes himself back, creating a rhythm against the unmade bed, not bothering Viggo with details like there is no sheet, just the rough mattress, because he was in the process of making the bed fresh when the phones rang. "Yes, sir. Feels good, sir."

"Does it feel better than stroking yourself did?"

"Rougher. More intense. Still wish it was you. Fucking me while I did it."

"Stop rubbing. Take the dildo from the nightstand."

Sean whimpers at the command to stop. He was really liking the friction that was building up. He reaches over, scrounges in the top drawer and pulls out the dildo. "Should I get the lube? Or are you in a mood, Vig?" he challenges softly.

"Don't second-guess me, boy, or I won't let you come. Suck on it."

"Sir, yes, sir." Automatic response, conditioned out of Sean's body after many nights of intense working at it. Sean slides the dildo into his mouth, sucking it as far down as he would his lover's cock, lavishing on it the same attentions.

"Imagine that it's me inside you now. Imagine that it's my cock pulsing in your mouth. My hands are in your hair and I'm making you choke."

Sean moans around the lifelike plastic. "Wantittotbeyou," he slurs in gasps of breath. His cock grows harder by the minute without touch, the barest pressure of the mattress working magic.

"Oh, you're a very naughty boy, aren't you, Sean? Getting off on a toy. Why, you're positively shameless."

Sean doesn't respond, doesn't dare pull the dildo out of his mouth until he's told to. Viggo may be taunting him, but it's the closest they've been in months and it's too good.

"You like this, I know you do. You get off on this. I bet - I bet you could come just from my voice in your ear."

"Uh huh," Sean gurgles around the dildo. It's a bet Viggo would win, hands down.

"You'd come on the sheets and make more of a mess than normal because you know I'll make you lick it up. I'd make you sleep in the wet spot all night long and go about your day without having a shower. And you'd enjoy every moment of it."

Sean's melting, so close to coming, and knowing he won't until Viggo tells him he can. The dildo is gagging at his throat, but he chokes back the cough. Every word he's hearing is the truth. He knows he'd do every single thing Viggo asks of him.

"You'd come home, smelling like sex, and then strip off completely. You'd walk around naked, waiting for me to call. And you'd be so hard, so completely hard."

Sean can do little more but moan and whimper and fight not to rub himself against the coarse fabric teasing at his cock.

"And you'd want to come so bad by then, because you know I'm delaying phoning just to be a fucking cocktease. But you can't until I say you can and as much as you hate me for it, you need it just a little."

Without barrier, Sean would be screaming, resounding yesses to all of Viggo's statements. He wants this. No, needs this. Is tired of being away from Viggo for so long. Is damned near ready to hop a flight and head to LA.

"Take the dildo out, boy. Use lube if you have to, but I want it stuffed up your ass."

Sean gasps as he spits out the plastic. He kneels up slightly, just enough to work his hand around and slide the dildo into his ass. No need for lube. It's coated slick with saliva, and any pain he might feel from it not being overlubed and him being tight is just a serendipity, as if Viggo really were there. "Yes, sir," he breathes out, ragged and worn. "Up my arse, sir."

"Good boy. Now settle back down. We don't want you to doing anything that might disturb it, don't we?"

Sean settles, facedown on the bed, his head against the edge of the pillows. "How may I please you now, sir?" he asks softly, slowly. "Your boy wants to be good, even when he's not with you."

"And you're a very good boy. Except when you're lying outright to reporters."

"I was trying to protect us, Vig. Forgive me?" Sean shifts, clenches his ass against the dildo, which is filling him nicely, but not nearly as nicely as Viggo would.

"You couldn't have just said 'yes, I am, but I don't want to talk about it' or 'yes, but it's none of your business'?"

"Yes, sir. Next time, sir. Please, Vig, can I come now? Getting damned hard and the mattress is creating a lot of tension."

"Hmm...let me think about it. Why *should* I let you come? Tough question."

"If you do, I'll come set up that cam for you. This week."

"Thought you were too busy for me?"

"I am busy. But I'll shuffle everything around. I'll make it work." Sean squirms. "Just tell me I can come, Vig."

"To L.A.? Certainly."

"Please, sir." Sean tries to sound obedient, submissive, ignore the obvious comeback about strangling Viggo when he gets hold of him. "Let me come on the bed, lick it up, sleep on it, and do all those other things you'd have me do."

"It's a good idea. But then, I'd have no way of making sure you've obeyed. Think you can catch a flight tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir." Shite. Sean has his suspicions about what Viggo's going to do, and none of them are doing a damned thing to make his cock any less hard. He thinks, mentally calculates what'd have to be done to leave town, decides whatever and whoever he's ditching for a trip to LA is worth it. "Yes, I can be there tomorrow."

"Then get on your cell and book the flight. Once everything's prepared, I'll let you come."

"Fuck." Sean scrambles for the mobile, trying not to dislodge the dildo, counting the seconds it takes to punch the speed dial for his travel agent. "Alice. Yeah, it's Bean. I need the earliest flight tomorrow outta Heathrow to LA." Silence, patience wearing thin, erection blessedly pressed into the mattress coils. "Open-ended. I'll call ya to book the return when I get there." Sean realizes he can't stay long, but he can make enough of an argument for talking with folks to manage a few days. He sucks in a deep breath when the agent relays the cost. "Put it on the card. Thanks." In less than five minutes, Sean has turned his world upside down. He'll deal with the fallout later. After he's come. He shuts the mobile and drops it on the bed. "Satisfied, Vig. I just moved heaven and earth for us."

"Very satisfied. Welcome to the world of emotional blackmail. There should be a plug somewhere in the room. Found it?"

"You've got t'be kidding," Sean mutters. Rhetorical question, wishful thinking. "Yeah, I know where it is." Another mutter. Bottom drawer, with the cock rings. There's a reason Sean doesn't let his girls in his bedroom without supervision. Too many toys. He's ready to throttle Viggo, much less apologetically than before. "Shoulda just told damned reporter I was dating a psychotic artist." It's said with Sean's patented fuckyousmile.

"Yes, you should have. Now you know. Up on all fours, Sean, and stick the plug where you know you'll hit it."

Too-quick movement and a jostling backward as he kneels up before going to all fours nudges the dildo just enough to rub in the right direction. _I'm fucking insane_. Sean sits the plug on the mattress and positions himself over it. "I'm gonna kill you. You do know that?" he says almost under his breath, fully aware the speakerphone picks up everything in the room. "Bloody slam you again' the wall and tear your fuckin' throat out."

"Looking forward to it." Viggo pauses. "From your tone, can I assume that you've obeyed my orders?"

"Yes, sir. Wouldn't think twice about not obeying them, sir." The last has a definite sarcastic tone, even though Sean's done exactly what Viggo told him to do.

"Right. Well, then, boy. You may come."

Coming without touching himself isn't the easiest thing in the universe for Sean to do, but months of being fucked by Viggo have taught him skills he never thought he'd have. So, the second Vig's words hit Sean's ears, he surrenders the fight his brain has been waging with his body for the last 10 minutes, howls his throat raw and lets go, covering the plug and surrounding mattress with white threads of cum, not giving one iota of care about wet spots or what's coming next.

"You sound...different while coming over the phone. We'll have to try it again some time."

"Fuck. You." Sean spits the words out slowly as he struggles to stay on hands and knees, his body desperately craving to give in completely.

Viggo chuckles over the phone. "Lick it half-way up. Then take the dildo out and put in the plug."

Sean dips his head down and licks the gooey white cum off the mattress. There's no repulsion. Lovers years ago took to reducing that aversion, and what was left Viggo had eradicated. _What the hell is half-way?_ "Yes, sir. Doing it, sir." He keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to know Viggo's answer. No way he'd be able to tell if Sean's licked up half or a fourth or nearly all, so Sean keeps licking until he feels like stopping, leaving a healthy amount of sticky on the mattress. He kneels up and reaches behind him, pulling out the plug. Quick, efficiently, knowing from experience not to prolong the moment and start the vicious circle up again. The plug goes in easily, almost too easily, as it's saturated with cum and Sean's ass is nicely open.

"Done, boy?"

"Yes, sir. All done. Can I g't'sleep now?"

"Yes. Night, Sean."

"Night. See ya tomorrow." Sean collapses on the bed, wet spot be damned, and crashes into oblivion.


End file.
